Chapter 4
Elena
I wake to a buzzing phone as Rachel texts me about an injured horse. Apparently the power came back on sometime during the night.
I make my way from the main house to the barn, wrapping my coat tighter against the bitter Montana wind. After being snowed in overnight at the ranch, the last thing any of us needs is an injured horse. But the message was urgent, and memories of last night's dinner—Jake's thigh pressed against mine, his breath on my ear, the way his hands felt on my waist in the darkness—are pushed aside by concern.
I find them in the first stall, Rachel watching while Jake kneels beside a bay mare. His shoulders are tense under his flannel shirt as he examines the horse's leg. He must have come straight from the guest cabin when Rachel called him.
“What happened?” I ask softly, not wanting to startle either Jake or the horse.
“Storm spooked her,” Rachel explains. “She tried jumping the fence and caught her leg. Jake saw her from the cabin window and got her back in, but...”
Jake glances up, and something flickers in his eyes when he sees me. “You didn't have to come out in this weather.”
“I may be from the city, but I can handle a little cold,” I move closer, careful to stay in the mare's line of sight. “What do you need?”
His focus returns to the mare, hands moving with surprising gentleness along her leg. “Could use an extra pair of hands. She's letting me work on her, but she's nervous.”
I step closer, speaking softly to the horse as I approach. “Hey there, sweet girl.” Her ears flick toward my voice, but her eyes are still wide, nostrils flared. I run my hand along her neck, feeling the tremors under her skin.
“That's it,” Jake says softly, and I'm not sure if he's talking to me or the mare. “Rachel, can you grab the first aid kit? The big one from the tack room.”
Rachel disappears, leaving us in the dim light filtering through the barn windows. The mare shifts uneasily, and Jake makes a low, soothing sound that does something to my insides. I've seen his intensity, his sharp edges, but this... this is different.
“Looks like she scraped it up pretty good,” he says, fingers probing gently. “Nothing broken, thank god, but she'll need some tending.”
“Tell me what to do.”
He glances up, and for a moment I catch something raw in his expression before it's gone. “Keep her calm while I clean this out. She's one of Ryder's more skittish ones.”
I continue stroking the mare's neck, murmuring nonsense words while Jake works. His movements are precise but tender, his usual gruffness replaced by a focused gentleness that makes my chest tight.
Rachel returns with the first aid kit and helps for a few minutes before Jake sends her to call the vet, just to be safe.
When the horse startles at the sting of antiseptic, his free hand comes up to rest beside mine on her neck, and the casual brush of his fingers against my skin sends heat crawling up my arm.
The mare seems to settle under our combined attention, her trembling gradually subsiding. I find myself watching Jake's hands as he works—strong, capable hands that handle the frightened animal with such care.
“You're good with her,” I say softly.
He shrugs, not looking up. “Animals are easier than people. They don't expect anything from you except what you show them.”
The words hit something tender in my chest. Before I can respond, he sits back on his heels. “That should hold until Doc Mitchell can check her.” His voice is rough, like he's said more than he meant to.
When he stands, he's closer than I expected. Snow melts in his dark hair, and this close I can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. My hand is still on the mare's neck, and he hasn't moved his away. Our fingers are almost touching.
“Jake,” I whisper, and something shifts in his expression.
He moves slowly, deliberately, like he's giving me time to pull away. But I don't want to pull away. I lean in as his free hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my skin. His touch is as gentle as it was with the horse, but there's nothing hesitant about it. “What are you doing to me woman? I-”
But then he kisses me, and it's soft at first—a question more than a demand. I answer by pressing closer, my fingers curling into his shirt. He makes a low sound in his throat and deepens the kiss, his hand sliding into my hair. Everything narrows to the points where we connect: his mouth on mine, his fingers tangled in my hair, his chest warm and solid against my palms.
Then the mare snorts and shifts beside us, and Jake jerks back like he's been burned. His eyes are wide, almost panicked, and I can practically see the walls slamming back into place.
“I should...” he gestures vaguely toward the door. “The vet will be here soon.”
“Jake, wait—”
But he's already moving away, his steps quick and uneven. He pauses at the barn door, one hand on the frame. “I'm sorry,” he says roughly. “I shouldn't have...”
He disappears into the snowy day, leaving me standing there with my lips still tingling and an ache in my chest that has nothing to do with the cold.
The mare nudges my shoulder gently, and I lean against her warm neck. “Yeah,” I tell her. “I'm in trouble, aren't I?”
I watch the door for a long moment, half-hoping he'll come back, but the only sound is the soft whisper of falling snow and the mare's steady breathing beside me. My hand traces absently over her neck, remembering the surprising tenderness in Jake's touch, the way his walls had dropped for just a moment.
Rachel returns, stamping snow from her boots. “Doc Mitchell's on his way. Where's Jake?”
“He, uh... went to watch for the vet.” The lie feels clumsy on my tongue, but Rachel's knowing look tells me she isn't fooled.
She busies herself checking the mare's bandages. “He's not good at letting people get close,” she says finally, adjusting a wrap.
“I'm not asking him to let me in,” I say, even though that's exactly what I want. What I've wanted since that first moment I saw him.
Rachel straightens, fixing me with a steady look. “Aren't you?”
Before I can answer, headlights sweep across the stable windows. “That'll be Doc Mitchell,” Rachel says, heading for the door. She pauses, glancing back at me. “Just... don't give up on him too easily, okay? Jake's worth the effort.”
I'm left alone again with the mare, my thoughts a tangle of possibilities and doubts. Outside, I hear voices—Jake's deep rumble among them—and my heart does that stupid little skip again. I press my forehead against the mare's warm neck, breathing in the familiar scent of horse and hay and leather.
“The thing is,” I whisper to her, “I think I already know that.”
The moment passes as Rachel bursts back into the barn, practically bouncing with excitement. “Okay, enough moping around! I have an announcement.” She claps her hands together. “We're having a party tomorrow night. No arguments!”
I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. “What's the occasion?”
“Do we need one? It's winter, it's freezing, and we all need some fun. Plus,” she grins, “I already ordered basically everything from Hearts & Grinds. Those cinnamon rolls alone are worth showing up for.”
“You mean you ordered the entire bakery case again?” Ryder appears in the doorway, smirking. “Remember last time? You were vibrating from sugar and caffeine for three days straight.”
“That was one time!” Rachel throws a spare bandage at him, which he dodges easily. “And I distinctly remember you eating most of those cinnamon rolls yourself.”
“I was protecting you from yourself. That's what big brothers do.”
“Oh, is that what you call sneaking the last one when you thought no one was looking?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Ryder's expression is pure innocence, but his eyes are dancing. “Besides, Dana's been testing new recipes on me every time I stop in. Says she needs an honest opinion.”
“Dana's been 'testing recipes' on you since she started working for Elise months ago,” Rachel says with air quotes. “Funny how you never did any taste-testing before she took over as pastry chef.”
Ryder's cheeks turn slightly pink. “I'm just being supportive of local businesses.”
“Mhmm.” Rachel turns to me with a conspiratorial wink. “Dana's baking might even be better than Elise's, which I didn't think was possible. She also happens to be single, which I'm sure has nothing to do with my brother's frequent coffee runs.”
“Don't you have horses to tend to?” Ryder grumbles, but he's fighting a smile.
“Speaking of tending,” Rachel says, “Elena, you're helping me decorate. And you,” she points at her brother, “are in charge of music. No sad country songs!”
“You love my sad country songs.”
“Not when I'm trying to throw a party, I don't!”
Their bickering fades as they head toward the door, leaving me grinning. Despite everything that just happened with Jake, I feel lighter somehow. Maybe a party is exactly what we all need.
“You'll help, right?” Rachel calls back.
I think about Jake, about the way he kissed me, about all the complications swirling between us. But I also think about the warmth in this place, the easy affection between siblings, the way it already feels a little bit like home.
“Wouldn't miss it,” I call back, and Rachel's answering smile is bright enough to rival the snow.